


Personification

by NMTD



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Escapism, M/M, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:01:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29964702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NMTD/pseuds/NMTD
Summary: Song fic.  Angst without much plot.
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 5
Kudos: 33





	Personification

**Author's Note:**

> The song is Angel by Sarah Mclachlan

_Spent all your time waiting_   
_For that second chance_   
_For a break that would make it OK._

Sanji lights a cigarette from his hiding spot behind the curtain, being careful not to let the flame anywhere near the fabric. He has his own private suite tonight, but the place is too empty, too bright, and too exposing for his comfort. He hasn't bothered turning on the lights. The night in the city is bright enough as it is. His tired eyes manage to find the Dome below the hotel building on their own, and it takes a few blinks before his brain registers that he's looking at it.

_There's always some reason_   
_To feel not good enough,_   
_And it's hard at the end of the day._

He's dragged right back onto center stage. The heat from the spot light, the muffled noise from the cheering crowd, the break in his worn out voice ruining the first note of the chorus. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to clear it from his mind.

_I need some distractions,_   
_Oh.. beautiful release._   
_Memories seep from my vein._

The sound of stomping leather boots approach his hiding spot in the dark. It belongs to the only other person who has access to the room, the only one who knows this side of him. When the sound stops beside him, he stretches out his arm to find the muscular waist and wraps himself around it, not bothering to push the curtain out of the way.

_Let me be empty,_   
_Oh.. and weightless, and maybe_   
_I'll find some peace tonight._

"You should get some sleep. We leave at 5 in the morning." The green haired manager says, tugging the curtain from between them.

"Can't. Fuck me." He barely forces out the words through his burning throat and tightens his hold on the man. He knows Zoro won't deny him this. The man never does. He's the only one who understands Sanji enough to indulge him. But in that short moment before he feels those callous hands on his back, he finds himself once again falling through that bottomless pit of uncertainty. He clings on harder, not giving a damn if he appears needy to the man.

_In the arms of an angel,  
_ _Fly away from here,_  
 _From this dark, cold hotel room_  
 _And the endlessness that you fear._

He relents himself to the customary rough treatment of those strong arms, trying to lose himself in the moment before his back bounces onto the bed. He watches as those firm hands peel back layers of the exquisite façade to expose the rotten and scarred human underneath. Only Zoro has seen him like this. Only Zoro will accept him like this.

_You are pulled from the wreckage_   
_Of your silent reverie._   
_You're in the arms of an angel._   
_May you find_   
_some comfort here._

Pain and pleasure explode in equal measure as Zoro enters him, driving out all unwanted thoughts of the day that just passed and of the one coming. On days like this he often forgets if he's doing this as a reward or a punishment for himself, but it puts him at ease nonetheless. He lets broken and ungraceful sounds escape his battered vocal cords and glances at the man's face, silent and expressionless as always. Zoro never looks at him in bed, nor does he pretend to care about whether the blond is enjoying the process. Sanji is grateful for the man's lack of fake praises and empty promises and mentions of the fantasy called love. He is grateful for the truthfulness in Zoro's silence.

Zoro is the personification of his salvation.

* * *

_So tired of the straight line,_   
_And everywhere you turn_   
_There's vultures and thieves at your back._

"Fuck me." The blond commands. Even in moments like this, moments of broken desperation, with Sanji's voice completely gone from the constant abuse he puts it through, Zoro can still hear the refusal to take no as an answer. The manager's treacherous hand hovers over the golden blond hair for a long moment of self indulgence before he forces it down with the roughness that's expected of him. Sanji does not tolerate tenderness, so Zoro will keep it hidden.

_The storm keeps on twisting._   
_Keep on building the lies_   
_That you make up for all that you lack._

Zoro understands the transactional nature of the request. It's allowed to happen only under the pretense that Zoro is merely using the blond as a tool of release, the same way the singer is using him. Sanji doesn't trust people easily. It's as if he doesn't believe in the goodness of the world. Zoro often wonders what the man has been through to get to this point, but it doesn't matter in the end. If a world of malice is what puts him at ease, Zoro will become part of that world.

_It don't make no difference,_   
_Escaping one last time._   
_It's easier to believe_

Zoro throws the singer onto the bed with practiced harshness and focuses on the clothes. He never dares to look the blond in the eye. He has no doubt that one look will give him away. One look, and the blond will know that Zoro would rather run his fingers through those soft golden strands and kiss him on the forehead. He will know that Zoro would rather cuddle and sing an off tune lullaby to silence all his inner demons. He will know that Zoro would rather hold his hands while he sleeps to keep the nightmares at bay. That's not what Sanji wants, so that's not what Zoro will do.

_In this sweet madness,_   
_Oh.. and glorious sadness_   
_That brings me to my knees._

Watching the blond sleep after these sessions is the only form of satisfaction he allows himself. He sits on the floor by the bed and follows the rhythmic rise and fall of the man's breaths, wondering if he has succeeded in temporarily driving out those self depreciating thoughts, the ones born out of the obsession with absolute perfection, the ones born out of the self-inflicted pressure to achieve the humanly impossible.

_In the arms of an angel,_   
_Fly away from here,_   
_From this dark, cold hotel room_   
_And the endlessness that you fear._

As it often happens, Sanji begins tossing and turning from a nightmare before the alarm clock sets off. Zoro resists the urge to wake the man and to tell him he's safe. Instead, he pours a cup of warm water and sets it on the night stand. This is all he's allowed to do for now.

Zoro often dreams of the day when the blond would confess that he's tired of it all, that he doesn't want to press on anymore, that he wishes to be away. Zoro would whisk him away to the edge of the world in a heartbeat. Until then, he will abide by the unspoken rules Sanji has set for him.

_You are pulled from the wreckage_   
_Of your silent reverie._   
_You're in the arms of an angel._   
_May you find_   
_some comfort here._

"Do you love me?" The blond teases a few minutes later, sitting up in bed with the cup of water in hand.

"Very funny." He answers, avoiding those observant blue eyes as always. If love is not what Sanji needs, love is not what he has to give.

Sanji is the personification of his conviction.

**Author's Note:**

> This was one of my all time favourite songs growing up, but it wasn't until recently that I discovered that the song was actually written as a tribute to a musician who died from drug overdose. What it's actually talking about is escapism. The discovery really shook me, and I haven't been able to hear the song in the same way again.


End file.
